


Support

by Baymax_13



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Also though Sokka doesn't realize how much he's been through, Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Established Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Gratuitous use of italics, M/M, Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Sokka gets a hug, Therapy, There's like two curse words but I didn't think it was enough to warrant a T rating, These kids fought in a war and they're bound to have issues, Unreliable Narrator, Zuko helps him get there, Zuko's a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baymax_13/pseuds/Baymax_13
Summary: Sokka’s familiar enough with the breathlessness now that it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that today will be a day where he acts. He’ll act ok, he’ll act happy, he’ll act like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s been shifted slightly in the wrong direction.It’s nothealthy, he knows, to hide this. Especially from Zuko, who would understand - and maybe that’s worse, because it means he’s felt this too - and instantly try to get him to stay safe andcomfortablein their room.But that’s exactly why Sokka can’t tell him. He doesn’t need to be coddled. He doesn’t need to be treated like he’s close to breaking because he’snot(he knows what that feels like and it’s so much worse than struggling to take a breath). Everyone went through the war, same as him, and they’ve all endured so much more on top of that that Sokka can’t bring the attention to his stupid inability to complete even the most basic functions necessary to sustain human life.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Or Sokka has a bad anxiety day, and Zuko notices because of course he does.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 393





	Support

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have a huge list of things I want to write for this fandom going and this was **not** on the list, but this idea would not leave me alone until I wrote it so. It's sort of a love letter to accepting when you need therapy, because it's a process filled with self-doubt.
> 
> All of the inspiration for Sokka's anxiety comes from my own experiences with it, but I do know it's different for everyone, so if there's something you think I could've done to portray it better do let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Also in this, Zuko notices Sokka's not ok and does his best to help. I did try to make it clear he doesn't fix anything for Sokka, because the truth is clawing your way through any mental illness is a solitary and difficult act, but sometimes we do need support from other people to start to help ourselves. 
> 
> Lastly, I wrote this at like 1 am, and while I did edit some stuff during the day after a full night's sleep and some coffee, there might still be some mistakes so just lmk if you spot any and I'll fix them.

Sokka’s familiar enough with the breathlessness now that it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that today will be a day where he acts. He’ll act ok, he’ll act happy, he’ll act like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s been shifted slightly in the wrong direction. 

It’s not _healthy_ , he knows, to hide this. Especially from Zuko, who would understand - and maybe that’s worse, because it means he’s felt this too - and instantly try to get him to stay safe and _comfortable_ in their room. 

But that’s exactly why Sokka can’t tell him. He doesn’t need to be coddled. He doesn’t need to be treated like he’s close to breaking because he’s _not_ (he knows what that feels like and it’s so much worse than struggling to take a breath). Everyone went through the war, same as him, and they’ve all endured so much more on top of that that Sokka can’t bring the attention to his stupid inability to complete even the most basic functions necessary to sustain human life. 

And it’s not like he’s going to break down or anything. This won’t impede his ability to work. He only has a few meetings today about trade routes between the fire nation and the southern water tribe, and then a more holistic council meeting with Zuko and all the other ambassadors and advisors. He’ll be _fine_. 

His chest does get tighter at the thought of how important his role is because what if he _fails_ , it would be so easy for him to mess up - but no, he can’t think about that. If he goes down that rabbit hole then he won’t so easily claw his way out of it and Zuko is bound to notice if Sokka can’t even talk to him later in their room. No, he’ll stay as calm as he can, ride the wave of whatever it is he’s feeling and hope it dissipates before he has to be alone with his boyfriend. 

That’s usually a 50/50 bet these days. Sometimes this _thing_ only lasts a few hours, sometimes it lasts days. The longer it is, the harder it is to hide, not because Sokka can’t fake it but because he won’t be able to sleep if this lasts through the night. 

Zuko always notices when Sokka doesn’t sleep, but he tends to chalk it up to insomnia. Agni knows Zuko himself deals with that often enough that they’ve both developed a preference for tea with ridiculous amounts of caffeine. 

In Sokka’s first meeting of the day, his hands start to tremble. It’s not noticeable - and even if it was he would do his best to hide it - but it’s definitely distracting. He adds more sugar to his tea than usual to see if that’ll calm the faint tremors. It’s a trick Iroh taught him, on the day of the comet. 

_You actually had a reason to be nervous that day._

Tui and La sometimes the voice in his head is treacherous. It honestly sounds like Azula more often than not, with her biting lilt and a sneer always present in her words, but right now it just sounds like him. 

He can’t say it’s not right either. He doesn’t have a reason to be nervous right now. All his friends are okay, the war is over, he’s living in a fancy palace, with the love of his life, doing his dream job. For all intents and purposes, his life is perfect, and more than perfect, it’s _safe_. 

He can’t remember the last time he had to pull a weapon out for anything more than a friendly sparring session. He can’t remember the last time his stomach ached with hunger. He can’t remember the last time he genuinely feared for his life. 

Or he can. But he’d rather not think about it. 

The point is he’s _safe_. They’re all safe, so why can’t his body just _get_ that!

In Sokka’s second meeting of the day, his head starts pounding. It’s not a foreign sensation. Between the lack of sleep, the stress of his job, and his less than stellar eating habits, headaches are commonplace. 

It’s not just a headache though, he knows. With everything else, this means this _episode_ \- or whatever it is - will last more than a few hours. Sokka doesn’t want to think about how he’s going to keep this from Zuko. The man has a scarily accurate 'Sokka is in pain radar', and he only has this meeting before he’ll have to see him face to face. 

Though, they won’t be Sokka and Zuko, they’ll be Ambassador Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, and Firelord Zuko of the Fire Nation, which will help. Zuko has a one track mind when it comes to his rule, and he’s very good at compartmentalizing. If Sokka plays his cards right, he can get a nap in before him and Zuko have dinner, which might abate the growing pain in his head. 

Sokka keeps the act going. He comments when he needs to on the policies being discussed, he throws in a joke here and there so no one gets suspicious. He bows when it’s expected of him, and drinks when it’s expected of him, and _breathes_ when it’s expected of him (that last one is particularly tricky, because he doesn’t actually feel that he’s taken a full breath since he woke up). 

It’s exhausting, keeping the two trains of thought going. One he has to opt in on. That’s the one he should be tuned in to, where he keeps info on tariffs and export routes and foreign policy agreements. One he wishes he could opt out of. That’s the one that tells him that at this very moment, Aang and Katara are being burned alive, Toph is being drowned because she can’t _see_ , can’t fight in the water, Zuko is facing an armed barrage of Ozai sympathizers, his dad is dead, has been since the war, bato was killed the day he was burned - 

**STOP**

He reigns himself in, gathering back any semblance of control like he’s bending it to him. He takes a few deep breaths, and he _knows_ it helps, even though it doesn’t feel like it. 

He focuses on the first train of thought, tries to silence the other one for now. He’s sure he’ll feel it later when he gets a chance to be alone, but for now he’ll try to exude the calm he doesn’t possess. 

The meeting is over all too soon, and Sokka feels as though the rope’s already around his neck as he heads to the council meeting. 

It’s _stupid_ , he knows, to be worried about Zuko of all people. He trusts the man more than he trusts anyone else alive, except maybe Katara. Zuko’s been there, the few times Sokka has broken down, and he’s never once judged, or pitied, or belittled. He’s only ever been understanding, and supportive, and adorably awkward. 

But it’s been _months_ now, since the end of the war. Things have been calm. Everyone else has adjusted. 

Zuko still gets nightmares sometimes, but his whole life has been shit, not just a few adventure laden months, and he can’t control those. Sokka should be able to control whatever’s happening to him right now, has been happening in increments since the peace treaties were signed. He should just pull himself together and stop being such a child about it. It’s completely and totally irrational. 

So why does he feel like he’s going to throw up?

Sokka sits at Zuko’s left during these council meetings. When he’s there, whatever delegate is to his own left has to look over him to talk to Zuko, which usually makes it easier for him to pick up with his good ear. And Sokka always makes sure to get Zuko’s attention before he talks to him, usually with a playful foot tap under the table. The others don’t seem to know Zuko’s half deaf, and he’s not about to tell them in an environment where every perceived weakness gets exploited. 

So Sokka sits, and he guards, and he taps Zuko when he feels he’s missing something important. That’s his job. It’s what he’s always been, the support. 

He loves it, most days, but right now the idea that if Zuko misses something it’ll be on him is enough to send him into a dizzying spiral.

He almost has to grab onto a nearby column for support before he makes eye contact with the man in question and straightens up automatically. He tries for a smile of his own and wonders only how he failed and not if. 

Zuko’s own smile meets him though and Sokka’s heart constricts in a way that’s not the same as it’s been doing all day. It’s not painful. That smile makes him feel more safe than any of his own half-assed rebuttals to his worried thoughts have.

It doesn’t _fix_ anything though, and it takes everything in Sokka’s power to not jump when the guards close the door. He hopes there’s no yelling during this meeting, because he’s not sure he’d be able to keep the act going if there was. 

Regardless, Sokka sits, studiously avoiding Zuko’s questioning gaze. He tries to be subtle, but the truth is he can’t tell if he’s succeeding. Eventually, Zuko looks away, instead giving him a comforting tap with his own leg under the table. 

Sokka almost jumps out of his skin. 

Something in Zuko’s gaze hardens, but he’s not looking at Sokka so he convinces himself it has nothing to do with him. 

Zuko stands. “Thank you all for coming.” He gives a slight bow, denoting his respect for those in attendance but also his superior rank. Everyone gathered bows as well, even Sokka, though it’s stilted and awkward and his face immediately flushes at having failed at this painfully simple task. 

“Unfortunately, a matter of the utmost urgency has come up, and I will need us to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow. You are all dismissed,” he says. 

Sokka can’t stop the shocked look that takes over his features, no matter how inappropriate it is for the high court. It gives him some solace to see that even the most senior advisors look slightly perplexed at this turn of events, but most everyone leaves with only slight grumbling. In the end, it’s just Sokka and Zuko in the room, and one guard stationed just outside. 

Immediately Zuko’s fire lord persona is forgotten. He is no longer the unimaginably powerful leader of a nation, but rather Sokka’s Zuko. The one who feeds the turtleducks everyday without fail, no matter how busy he is. The one who holds Sokka when the nights get cold because he’s a damn space heater. The one who loves Sokka. The one Sokka knows loves him. 

It’s a welcome change, and for a second he considers letting his own mask fall, letting Zuko in. But no, apparently there’s a matter of the utmost urgency to attend to, and he won’t let Zuko down. He will be the support, even if it kills him. 

His heart speeds up at that thought, because no he can’t die, he can’t leave Zuko alone, he can’t do that to Katara, he _can’t_ -

Zuko’s hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down with a pressure that Sokka can recognize would be soothing under any other circumstances. They’re both sitting on the stone floor, and it’s almost funny seeing Zuko in full firelord regalia, sitting criss-cross applesauce. _Almost_. 

“Breathe, Sokka,” he says. And oh, was Sokka not breathing? That didn’t seem right, but yes, there’s the familiar tightening in his chest, and shit - he really isn’t breathing, but he can’t seem to start either. He looks at Zuko desperately. _Help me_ , he tries to say, but all that comes out is a pitiful squeak. 

Zuko softens even more, and Sokka wouldn’t have thought it possible if he wasn’t seeing it. He knows what that face looks like when it’s hardened. In anger, in frustration, even in sadness, Zuko hardens. His scar warps his features so any scowl looks like a grimace, and if he didn’t know him, he would be scared. But he isn’t, because he’s seen it enough that he knows it’s just Zuko’s armor. He’s spent so long being punished for being vulnerable, that it takes a supreme act of courage to allow himself even that. 

So this, the blatant warmth in his golden eyes - and Agni, they’re like molten lava - chips at Sokka’s carefully crafted exterior. 

“Can I touch you, Sokka?” He places his hands up; Sokka knows he’ll respect his decision either way. 

Sokka nods, because that means Zuko’s going to _help_. He knows it also means that his facade failed, which is not a comforting thought amidst an already overwhelming moment, but if Zuko can help him breathe he’ll take the loss. 

Zuko moves so that he’s at Sokka’s back, grabbing both of the tribesman’s arms and crossing them over his chest. He then wraps his own arms around Sokka and squeezes. It should be uncomfortable - and well, it certainly isn’t _comfortable_ \- but it’s comforting instead. Sokka focuses on the pressure around him rather than the pressure in him, and feels the latter start to ease. He’s not breathing easily, but he’s _breathing_ , and that’s a particular type of victory. 

They stay that way, Zuko wrapped around Sokka, emanating warmth, for a long time. He feels immeasurably better, at least physically, but he also knows this won’t fix what’s wrong with him. He can’t rely on Zuko calling off his responsibilities every time he freaks out over nothing and -

“Hey what’s wrong? You just got tense again,” Zuko asks, and Sokka almost cries because how could he think that Zuko wouldn’t notice what was going on with him? 

“Sorry,” Sokka manages to choke out, and suddenly he’s being turned around until his head is against Zuko’s chest and he’s crying and oh Agni he feels guilty because it’s so nice to let it out, but he’s letting it out all over Zuko. 

Zuko shushes him. “Hey, none of that. You don’t need to apologize for this. Not to me, not ever.”

Sokka shakes desolately against him, not knowing what he could say to merit this incredible kindness. 

Zuko tilts his head up so blue eyes meet gold. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. There’s no pressure in his voice, no accusation, and maybe that’s what makes Sokka consider the request instead of brushing it off. 

“It’s so stupid-” he sobs, “I’m just so nervous about everything, and I can’t stop shaking, and my head hurts, and I’m nauseous and _I can’t breathe_ Zuko, I can’t breathe.” 

“I know we’re safe, I do, but my brain won’t believe it and - and I didn’t want anyone to know because I didn’t want you to realize how weak I am because you’re all handling everything so much better than I am but I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Sokka wails.

Zuko rubs a comforting hand over Sokka’s back, toned from running drills every morning and every night, training and preparing for the next invasion, for the next time his sword is the only thing between everyone he loves and certain death. 

“Sokka, you are not weak. And it’s not stupid. It sounds like you have anxiety, maybe PTSD. I don’t know what you guys might call it in the southern water tribe, but it’s a condition, and it’s not your fault.” Zuko’s voice is gentle, probing, seeing whether this information is taken with surprise or outrage or acceptance. 

It’s denial though, that Sokka responds with. “No, I - I’ve heard of that, but I can’t… I mean, I haven’t been through anything nearly as bad as you or Aang. I should be able to handle this.”

Zuko sighs, though not unkindly, and he presses a kiss to the top of Sokka’s head so his meaning can’t be misinterpreted. “Sokka, you fought in a war at fifteen years old. You lost your mom when you were ten, your father left you in charge of your village when you were thirteen.” He pauses. “You’ve been through more in sixteen years than most people will go through in a century. Whatever your reaction to that is is completely acceptable.”

Sokka’s eyes sting with a fresh wave of tears. “Then what do I _do_? How do I _fix_ this?”

“Well the first thing is that we’re going back to our rooms, and we’ll move all your meetings until after this particular wave passes. We’ll get some tea, and you can tell me anything you want to tell me about how you’ve been feeling, and I won’t pressure you for more than you want to say. If you want, we can write to Katara, or your dad, or really whoever. And then we’re going to try to sleep, see if we can do anything about that headache.”

Zuko holds him tighter. “And then, we can consider maybe seeing if you want to talk to a professional.”

Sokka doesn’t dismiss the idea immediately, though it is his first instinct. His brief stint as the Avatar’s therapist comes to mind, but Sokka knows that wasn’t exactly the best representation of the real thing. For one, whoever they find will likely be an actual practitioner rather than a teenager coaching a twelve year old on how to kill an almighty dictator. 

He thinks it would be nice, to have someone he can talk to without worrying he’s disappointing them. Without worrying he’ll stop being useful to them. 

Sokka looks at Zuko for any hint that he’s joking, or mocking him, but all he finds is empathy, and love too, and it’s the latter that convinces him of his answer. “Okay,” he says simply. 

“Okay,” Zuko replies. 

It’s not fixed. It might never be completely fixed, but Sokka feels worlds better than when he woke up that morning. The air he inhales doesn’t get caught in his throat, and his heart is back in its rightful place. He supposes there will be a lot of bad days ahead, but at least now he knows he can count on Zuko to be there for him. 

To be _his_ support.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my whole life!
> 
> Also if you have any writing prompt you wanna see, comment down below and I'll probably write them, and even gift them to you!


End file.
